The Witch's Baby

My cell phone buzzed alerting me to a new text message. Picking up my phone, I swiped up and looked at the message.

We need to talk.

Cringing I shook my head as I attached my phone to my belt clip, picked up my car keys and walked out the door. Driving the few blocks it would take to get to David’s house I played out a few scenarios in my head. What could he possibly want that wouldn’t be a bad thing? It was my nature to assume the worse, so I was trying really hard to think of some positives. Maybe David remembered it would be our one-year anniversary next week? Perhaps he got a promotion at work and wanted to share it? Or maybe he was finally ready for that next step for us to move in together? There was a knot in my stomach but I was attempting to ignore it.

I pulled into David’s driveway and took a deep breath. It was now or never. He had given me his house keys a while back, so I let myself in, only to see him kissing another woman on his living room couch. Anger coursed through me like a raging beast, but I stood there watching, my hands clenching tightly into fists.

That bastard!

I waited until the make-out session was over, knowing it could have gone on longer and turned into something else. I took a deep breath.

“David, is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked calmly, hands still in fists.

David looked at me and so did his new woman. The woman looked back at him in disbelief.

“You told me your name was Jeremy and that you and your wife were divorced!”

“Baby, please, it’s all a misunderstanding,” David replied and looked at me and then back at the woman.

I stood there silently and crossed my arms. David stood up and backed away from the couch to look at both me and his new girlfriend apparently.

“David,” I said as calm as I could muster. “You have some explaining to do.”

David, smiling tentatively, begins to explain himself or excuse himself as would be the case here.

“Baby, you know I’ve been lonely for a while, and I had to get this hooker to do things for me-

“Excuse me!” The other woman shouts. “I’m no hooker, and you lied to me this whole time, Jeremy, or should I say David? You lied to both of us!”

David just stands there like a deer caught in the headlights. I’m waiting but the other woman is not as patient. She stands up, smooths her red dress, walks up to David and slaps him across the face.

“Stay away from me perv! You got some nerve lying like that to both of us. Come near me again and I’ll get a restraining order on your ass.” She says and walks away from him. She stops briefly near me and whispers “You can do so much better than him.”

I am shocked at the revelation but say nothing and continue to stare daggers at David. He just smiles and walks towards me.

“Baby please, it’s one mistake,” he tries to reach his hand out to squeeze my shoulder.

I immediately slap his hand away.

“Please baby, be reasonable.” He speaks.

“Reasonable?” I snap unable to control myself. “How the hell do you call this reasonable?”

“Please baby, forgive me,” David says quickly. “I’ll be a much better man I promise. Give me another chance.”

I immediately slap him when he tries to touch me again. He tries to hug me, and I sidestep him.

“Enough David.” I tell him. “We’re finished!”

“But baby, we didn’t get a chance to talk. I love you!”

“How can you say that David! You don’t love me. Clearly you never have.” I snap and begin walking out.

David grabs my arm tightly.

“Don’t do this, Ava,” David pleads.

I yank my arm away from him. He stands there watching me go.

“You’ll never have a man truly love you.” He screams after me. “You’ll never have someone like me again!”

“That’s the point,” I say and get back into my car and throw his house keys at him.

I speed away from his driveway and go back home. I head into my living room and fall onto my couch, the tears come falling out like waterfalls. How could he? I was hoping for something else and not this. I continue crying wondering what the hell brought me to this point.

The next day I get in my car preparing emotionally for the day at work. I’m a substitute teacher that was assigned as a long-term substitute to a middle school. I’m the art teacher for now. Middle schoolers are tough, but I enjoy my job, tough as it is. So, I go in to set up for today. The periods go by as normal. Some behaviors but for the most part a pretty good day. At my lunch break I decide to go into the staff lounge which I normally don’t do. I take out my lunch eating my ham and cheese sandwich on rye bread and a woman walks in. I’m speechless. It’s the same woman I saw yesterday, chestnut colored hair, red lipstick, green eyes and she’s wearing a black pencil skirt with a light blue button-down blouse and heels. I inwardly smirk at the heels. Her feet will be killing her later. She looks at me with recognition.

“My name is Naomi, but the kids call me Ms. Scarlett. I don’t believe I caught your name.”

This woman was smooth. How could I react to that? I smile and play her game.

“My name is Ava. The kids call me Ms. Johnson.” I replied, still in disbelief, and I mutter. “What do you teach?”

“I’m the 7th grade English teacher.” Naomi replies. “I also teach resource room.”

“Ah. I’m subbing for the Art teacher,” I say, and I’m flabbergasted.

“Ah, yes, Mrs. Miller will be out for quite a while,” Naomi explains. “I’ll see you around.”

After she said that, she walks out of the staff lounge. I could swear she just winked at me, but I could be wrong. Inwardly, I sigh and wonder why I just did that. I continue to eat my sandwich and go on with the rest of my day.

After school is over, I drive aimlessly for a bit not that I should be doing that. I just don’t want to go home yet and I see one of those psychic shops that are so trendy today. Screw it! I pull into the parking lot and walk into the shop.

It’s the typical set up for occult shops. Dark curtains. The aroma of incense and in the back part of the room is a curtain with a counter in front of it. The counter has a cash register and a lady dressed in dark green robes greeting me with a smile.

“Hello,” I say politely and look at the shelves stacked with tarot card decks and incense burners.

“Greetings,” the woman replies.

I pick up a tarot card deck and look at the dragon designs on it. I think it’s interesting and I absolutely love dragons as cliché as that sounds. I hear the curtain get pulled back and look up. A woman with blue jeans and a green t-shirt comes out with tears streaming down her face.

“You’re a monster!” she screams and runs out of the shop.

I shake my head. I assume someone read her tarot and she didn’t like what the person had to say. Shrugging, I put the tarot card deck down and pick up another one, this time the artwork includes fairies. Let’s just say I love mythical creatures and this shop has lots of eye candy for that. After I look at a few more decks, I look to the back curtain. The woman from earlier left crying but I never put much stock into tarot card readings, astrology, and any of the new age crap out there. It’s fun yes, but nothing to take seriously. I walk to the curtain and look at the lady in the robes behind the cash register.

“How much is a reading?” I ask.

The lady beams. She points to the other side of the curtain, and I see the prices listed. One full reading is $45. This wasn’t too bad in my opinion as I had seen them more expensive and some cheaper. I do prefer cheaper, but I’ll probably never be in this store again, and shops like these depend on all the custom they can get. I may not take it seriously, but I still find it fun and wouldn’t want them to close down.

“Okay, do I pay you or the person inside?”

The woman points to the curtain. I nod my thanks and walk in. Inside I see a round table covered with a black tablecloth. In the middle of the table is a crystal ball. In front of the crystal ball is an open deck of tarot cards with a hand resting on top of the deck. I look up and see a hooded figure. I’ll give this shop credit for spookiness.

“What do you desire to see?” The hooded figure asks and I swear I know that voice.

“I guess if I’ll ever find true love,” I say playing along. That’s what people usually come here for right? That or if their job is good or what not? All that basic stuff.

“Yes,” the hooded figure replies and the person’s hands shuffle the tarot deck. The person places the cards in a Celtic Cross spread. At least I think it’s the Celtic Cross spread. I was never good at remembering all the little details of the Tarot. I was far more interested in looking at the art.

“You will come into conflict with a lover,” the person tells me and pulls another card to the side. “You’ll need to do some soul searching and figure out whether the love you are currently seeking is what you really want or not.”

I roll my eyes at this “reading,” and wait for the rest of it to come.

“There are forces that seek to destroy your happiness.” The figure moves another card.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” I say and again roll my eyes.

“You are standing in your own way. Sometimes you will need to let others in…” I roll my eyes for the third time and let the person finish the reading that sounds so general and commonplace. When the figure finishes my “reading,” I wait for what they will say next.

“There is a possible way you can find true love.” The figure says.

I laugh but play the game.

“Okay, how?” I ask.

“It will be a heavy payment.” The person responds.

I shake my head. This is technically a witch shop after all. And all these things are for entertainment purposes only. The figure sits there silently. Clearly, they have this act down pat, but I’m still trying to place where I heard this person’s voice before. It really does sound so familiar.

“So how much will it cost?” I ask again, playing the game.

There is a heavy silence. I want to laugh again but it doesn’t feel right to do so at this point in the act. So, I wait and so does the hooded figure sitting across from me. Several moments pass. Finally, the figure speaks up.

“I can cast a love spell, but the payment will be a heavy one indeed. For you to find your one true love, I will require your first-born child,” the hooded figure speaks plainly.

“What?” I ask, incredulous. “Don’t witches have to follow a rede of do no harm to others or something like that? This is a bit much, if this is how you’re playing at it.”

“If you think this is just a game, then you have nothing to lose,” the hooded figure says matter of factly.

“Ha, okay. One first born child from me for the love potion of all love potions.” I shake my head finding this whole charade so stupid.

“Let’s shake on it,” the hooded figure replies and holds their hand out.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes again and shake the person’s hand. In the person’s other hand, a vial is produced. In the vial is a pink liquid. It looks like pink seltzer water. I take it in my hand.

“It’s a deal,” the person says.

“Can you at least show me your face?” I ask, knowing this was breaking the rules of the game.

The person pulls their hood back and I see a familiar mane of chestnut hair and green eyes. I can’t believe it. What?

“Naomi?” I ask in disbelief.

The woman shakes her head and gives a gentle smile.

“Naomi is my twin sister. My name is Nadia.” She explains.

“Where you the one with David?” I ask, still flabbergasted.

“No. My sister dated a Jerome for a while, but something happened yesterday between them. I guess you were the other woman she mentioned?”

I nod my head silently.

“The love potion will be paid for when you have your first child. The reading however, you need to pay for now.”

“Excuse me,” I say. I pay for the reading with cash.

“You’re not actually serious about the whole first-born thing, are you?” I ask. “This isn’t some prime-time Disney show you know.”

Nadia only smiles.

“Time will tell. Either way, I feel we will see more of each other.”

“Not to be rude, but I really hope not!” I reply and walk out of the store intending to keep true to my statement.